(no subject)

May 05, 2009 00:16

We set about dismantling the ghetto. Scalpels of wreaths and homes with no stains. Everyone will have their right place, free of memories and spirits.

And shitstains.

Is it the people that do it? Do the people create the place, or does the place engender the wastes of life?

When you awaken every day, eyes encrusted with the doom you've inherited, can you have the strength to soak and rinse your predestiny into something less sinking?

In debates, they count the winner as the party that sways the most votes. In life, I count the worth of a life as what you make out of what you're given. If you're born the son of a politician and you become a lawyer, -2. If you're born a crack-baby with an umbilical necklace in Oscar's Cradle, and you ascend a meteoric rise to suburbia raising a healthy family, +10.

It's so sad to see so many unaware of life's genuinely limitless possibilities. Put some hope into your veins instead of comfort.
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